At The Tiger's Claw Café
by Louis Tsunami
Summary: When Sam invites Danny to a poetry reading at The Tiger's Claw Café, Danny decides to read a very important poem... but first he has to write it. With the help of friends and enemies, Danny will risk everything for the Goth girl who stole his heart. DS


**Disclaimer:** I do not own Danny Phantom, its characters or settings, or any of Butch Hartman's and Nickelodeon's copyrighted material. I do own A Rose Among the Thorns and Trading Colors. Please don't steal them. I also own Misguided, but frankly I don't care if you use it, change it, or whatever. But you probably wouldn't want to anyway.

**At The Tiger's Claw Café**

Danny Fenton was sitting in the food court of Amity Park's mall with his best friends, Sam Manson and Tucker Foley. Tucker was completely engrossed in his half-pound chili cheeseburger. Sam was casually eating her salad while trying to focus her attention on mall goers, clothes in the shop windows, the fountain, anything that wasn't Tucker satisfying his craving for meat. Danny, having finished his pizza, was watching Sam out of the corner of his eye.

Danny felt like an idiot for ignoring his feelings for Sam for so long. He had been afraid that she would never see him as more than a friend. For a long time, he had masked his affections for his best friend by fawning over Paulina, the most popular girl in his grade. Ironically enough, while Paulina had despised Danny's lack of popularity, she was completely smitten with his alter ego.

A wisp of blue air escaped Danny's lips, and he sighed in frustration. Danny stood up and looked around for a suitable hiding place. He turned to his friends. "You know, when summer started I promised myself I wasn't going to fight any ghosts. Then Freakshow showed up, and everything has gone downhill from there." Jumping behind a large potted plant, Danny Fenton transformed into Danny Phantom. His hair changed from black to white, his eyes from blue to glowing green. The clothes that he normally wore were replaced by a black jumpsuit with white boots, gloves, collar, belt, and a _DP_ emblem on his chest.

Danny jumped up into the air and hovered for a moment, hands charged with ectoplasmic energy, before he saw a red blur, Valerie Gray, chasing 'Cujo' on her hoverboard. Mall patrons were screaming and diving out of the way. Valerie chased the ghost dog out of the mall, and Danny decided he'd let it slide and catch the ghost later.

Valerie: that brought back some… interesting memories, to say the least. For a while, he had liked Valerie, and had even dated her. She had ended up breaking up with him because of her ghost fighting, not knowing that his alter ego was her number one enemy. A little ironic, but it worked out for the best. Although Danny had been upset at first, he had long since gotten over the loss. Although Valerie was a much nicer girl than Paulina, much less of a snob toward Danny after her father lost his job, she still shared a major flaw with Paulina. Both of them hated half of Danny, and he needed a girl that could appreciate both halves of him.

A girl like Sam.

Danny floated back to the table where Sam and Tucker sat, calmly eating. Everyone else in the area had run from the ghost, so Danny was safe to transform back in the open. "Well, Valerie's after the ghost, and chances are good they'll be closing the mall early tonight to clean up whatever mess he made, so what do you guys want to do?"

"I dunno," Tucker replied. "There aren't any new movies for us to go see. What is there for three kids to do on a Wednesday night?" Sam's eyes lit up instantly.

"Wednesday? Today is Wednesday! Awesome!"

"What's so special about Wednesdays?" Danny questioned.

"There's a Goth café not too far from the park called The Tiger's Claw, and on the first Wednesday of every month they have an open poetry reading. I started going there after Kwan got me kicked out of the one downtown, and I actually like it better. Anyway, the poetry reading starts at seven and ends at ten. I never miss it. So, uh, would you guys be interested in coming?"

Tucker gave her a pained look. "You know Sam, I'd love to, but I have to… to… I have a… um, I gotta…" Sam put one hand on her hip.

"You don't have to worry about offending me, Tuck. If you don't want to go, you don't have to." Tucker let out the breath he was holding.

"Thank you Sam." Tucker turned to leave. "Now, if you two lovebirds don't mind, I've got to go home to recharge the battery for my PDA."

"We're not lovebirds!" Sam exclaimed, although this time, Danny didn't have the heart to join her. She didn't seem to notice though. "Danny? What about you?"

Danny was soaring inside. This was exactly what he needed. A chance to be alone with Sam, in an environment she was totally comfortable with, where he might be able to finally fess up and admit his feelings for her. And he knew exactly how he could do just that.

"Sam." The Goth girl met his gaze, and Danny had to fight not to let everything show on his face. He longed to just stare into her eyes, but he knew he had to keep talking. "Can anyone read a poem then?"

Sam bit her lip. "Well, yes. But…"

"What is it?"

"I guess it's no big deal. The people who run The Tiger's Claw and the people who normally visit there have reasonably eclectic tastes. Some of what you'll hear will be the normal Goth poetry: morbid, bleak, dark. But not necessarily all of it. As long as your poem has some semblance of depth, you should be okay. Just one condition, Danny."

"What's that?"

Sam adopted a look of mock seriousness. "Absolutely no, The Fluffy Clouds All Look Like Footballs, got it?"

Danny chuckled while the stern look on Sam's face remained unfazed. "How about, Fuzzy Bunnies Frolicking in the Meadow?" A slight smile broke through Sam's façade, until finally she and Danny broke down laughing together. Their laughter followed them all the way to Sam's house where Danny promised on her doorstep to pick her up at quarter of seven. Danny turned for home with only one small dilemma. He needed to write a poem for Sam.

Danny sat at his computer, the blank WordPad staring back at him offering no comfort. He needed to write something that would touch Sam's heart, something that would show her he wasn't clueless and that he truly cared for her, without sounding too mushy or sappy. A love poem to a Goth…

Danny's clock glared 4:32, which gave him less than two hours before he was supposed to pick Sam up. Danny felt lost and nervous; he wanted to give Sam something beautiful, something that would open her eyes to the possibility of them moving their relationship beyond the boundaries of friendship. What if he just couldn't do it? Maybe he didn't deserve Sam…

No. He was not going to think like that. He just needed to concentrate. Although a little help couldn't hurt.

Danny ran from his bedroom in a frenzied panic and proceeded to pound on Jazz's door. "Jazz, I really need your help!" Jazz opened the door.

"Can I help you?"

"I really hope so. Can we talk about it in my room?" Jazz nodded and followed Danny into his bedroom. He closed the door and she sat on his bed.

"All right, Danny, what seems to be the problem?" Danny pointed to the blank WordPad on his computer.

"That is the problem." Jazz looked at the computer vacantly for a few seconds before turning back to her little brother.

"I think technical problems are more Tucker's field than mine. You might want to call him and–"

"No, it's not that," Danny interrupted. "It's a poem. Or it's supposed to be, anyway. I need to write a poem in, like, two hours. I don't know where to begin."

Jazz nodded appraisingly. "What sort of poem are we talking about? Anything at all, or something more specific?"

Danny scratched the back of his neck nervously. "Well, yeah, it needs to be about… well, it's kind of a personal poem."

Jazz smiled. "Love poem for Sam, got it. I would suggest that–"

"Wait a minute!" Danny interjected again. "I never said it was a love poem!"

"You're admitting it's for Sam, then?"

"I never said that either!"

Jazz just grinned and shook her head. "Danny, Danny, Danny. Honestly, you need to get with the program. The sooner you accept that, as a woman and your sister, I can see right through you, the easier all this will be. There's no point in denying that it's for Sam. Remember what I told you about facing your problems?"

Danny sighed. "'The first step to fixing a problem is to admit that you have one,'" Danny quoted, mimicking Jazz's voice poorly. "Yeah, yeah, I remember."

Remember.

Danny pushed Jazz out of his room. "Thanks, Jazz, but I think I can take it from here. I owe you one!" Danny closed the door on a very confused Jazz and immediately phased invisibly down into the lab. Making sure he was alone, Danny became visible and tangible. He activated the Fenton Portal and, without a moments hesitation, dove headfirst into the Ghost Zone.

Danny flew at top speed, hoping that this wasn't one of his more stupid ideas. He really didn't have much of a choice on such short notice, and he had all ready decided he wasn't going to turn back empty handed.

Danny found the door he was looking for and, after taking a deep breath to reassure himself, knocked confidently on the door. The ghost who opened the door looked at him skeptically.

"What do you want, dipstick? I'm not trying to take over your planet today. Leave me alone." She almost closed the door in his face, but Danny stuck his foot out to stop it.

"Listen, Ember, I'm not her to fight you. Actually, I need your help. I need to write a poem for tonight, I don't know where to begin, and I thought maybe… you could help me."

Ember smirked at him for a moment, and then shook her head. "You serious?" Danny nodded eagerly. "Well, as much as I'd love to use this to my advantage, you know, to further my own evil schemes and all, I am not the ghost you should be asking. And unfortunately for you, he doesn't like you very much."

Danny looked at her in confusion. "What do you mean? Who should I be asking?"

"That would be the Ghost Writer. The hack who writes my songs. And good luck with that. Trust me, ghost boy, you'll need it." And with that said, Ember closed the door.

Danny floated back a few feet. He was about to fly over to Ghost Writer's mansion, but remembered what happened the last time the two of them met. Instead, Danny flew to Walker's prison. He entered through the front door that led to the reception area. Bullet sat at the counter and looked at Danny as he entered.

"Well, well, if it isn't the ghost kid. Walker will just love to hear about–" Bullet was silenced by Danny's hand around his throat. His free hand he charged up with an ectoplasmic blast.

"I'm here to visit the Ghost Writer. If that's a problem, I'll beat the tar out of you first, and then visit Ghost Writer. What's it gonna be, pal?" Bullet nodded, eyes wide with fear, and Danny released him. He pointed down the hall as he rubbed his throat.

"He's in cell B9 with Wulf." Danny smirked.

"Thank you very much."

Danny walked down the hall Bullet had indicated, fingering the keys he had lifted off the ghost while he had him by the throat. He counted the cells as he passed.

"B6… B7… B8… and B9. Perfect." Danny leaned up against the bars, peering in to find Wulf lying on the bottom bunk in the cell, while Ghost Writer sat up on the top bunk, staring off into space. "Hey Ghost Writer, hey Wulf, how's it hangin'?"

The ghosts in question looked over, one with a smile on his canine face, the other with a glare. "You!" Ghost Writer exclaimed, dropping from his bed and approaching the bars. "How dare you mock me! I swear, when I get out of here–"

"Orange." Ghost Writer became immediately silent and trembled involuntarily. "Listen, Ghost Writer, I'm not here to mock you. I'm here to ask for your help."

"Ha! As if I would help you! What motivation could I possibly have to do such a thing?" Danny jingled the keys in front of the cell door. Ghost Writer nodded. "Deal. Spring me out, and I will let bygones be bygones."

"And help me with my problem?"

"Yes, yes, and help you with your problem." Danny put his right hand through the bars, which Ghost Writer shook.

"Deal," Danny said, unlocking the door. Ghost Writer and Wulf stepped out into the corridor. Danny noticed that Wulf was once again restricted by a shock collar, and he quickly found the key to set his friend free. "All right, Wulf, think you could rip us a portal out of here?"

"Not so fast, ghost kid!" Danny turned to find Walker, backed by Bullet and a couple dozen of his police drones, standing just down the hall. Walker stepped forward. "You didn't think I'd just let you waltz in here and set my prisoners free, did you? That would be against the rules."

Danny rolled his eyes. "Tell me, Walker, is this against the rules?" Danny inhaled a deep breath and screamed at the top of his lungs. His Ghostly Wail echoed down the corridor, crashing into Walker and his minions like a tsunami. Walker struggled against it for only a moment before being flung backwards where he crashed against a wall and lay still.

Danny put his hands on his knees, trembling slightly with the exertion, as he transformed back into his human form. Wulf put a paw on his back.

"_Adiaŭ al malbonaj aferoj_!" Danny smiled at his friend, clueless as to what he had just said, but he figured it was some form of compliment or congratulations. As Danny caught his breath, Wulf drew his claws and promptly rent a portal into Danny's bedroom. The trio stepped through, leaving Walker and his prison behind.

Danny turned to Wulf. "Hey, I'm sorry, but my parents have ghost hunting equipment all over. Plus, I'm sure my mom will remember you. This probably isn't the best place for you to stay. But if you want, you could haunt the forest at the edge of town. There are some cabins that aren't used out of hunting season you could sleep in. And I'm sure Sam will be thrilled to hear that there's someone protecting the forest from the ravaging of mankind."

Wulf grinned, baring his long fangs. "_Dankon, mia amiko. Ĝis la revido_, Danny." Wulf pulled the hood of his green sweatshirt over his head, jumped through Danny's wall, and headed for the forest. Looking out through the window, Danny could see that his father had spotted Wulf.

"I've got you this time! Oh curses, the Fenton Fisher is all tangled again. Maddie!"

"It's okay, Jack… Cause I have the Fenton Bazooka! Let's get him!" Jack followed his wife after Wulf.

"Man, that's hot!"

Danny turned from the window, confident in Wulf's ability to elude his parents, especially in the forest. He glanced at Ghost Writer who was waiting patiently nearby.

"Right. I need your help. I need to write a poem in…" Danny glanced at his clock and read that it was now six o' clock. "Forty five minutes. Can you help me?"

Ghost Writer flew over to Danny's computer, where a screen saver with Sam's picture had taken over, and glanced back at the half ghost. "Sorry, kid, but I doubt it. True poetry has to come from within. I can't do that for you. All I can suggest to you is to write about what you know. Use your experiences. Write what you feel. Do you think you would write better free verse or something that rhymes?"

Danny shrugged. "If I tried free verse, I'd probably come off sounding like I'm rambling or something. Then she'll really hate me."

"It's for a girl then? Write about times you've shared together. What do you think about when you think of her? Write about that. I really can't give you any more advice than that. Good luck." And with that, Ghost Writer disappeared.

Danny sat at his computer. He looked at the picture of Sam smiling on his screen saver. A brief moment of Sam's perfection, frozen forever. He had taken the photograph on her fifteenth birthday just a few weeks ago. She had been so happy, and the entire day had been perfect. Simply perfect. Why couldn't it always be like that? Why did he always have to fight, always have to lie, always have to die…

Sam's smile burned through his eyes, into his mind, and embedded its image there. To have that, to know that being with him just might make Sam happy, made everything worth it.

And just like that, the poem was born.

"Hey, Danny, right on time. Let's go." Sam took Danny's hand, and he felt his heart begin to race. He took a deep breath as he began to walk in the direction of The Tiger's Claw. "You know, Danny, we could fly." Danny shook his head.

"I was just in a fight with Walker and his minions. I, uh, set Wulf free. He's going to be haunting the forest outside town, which should scare off any hunters."

"Awesome!" Sam said, smiling at Danny, which brought to mind the picture on his computer and the poem in his pocket.

"Yeah. Anyway, I had to use my Ghostly Wail, and I don't have enough energy to transform back yet. I should be fine to fly us home, though."

"Okay, then we'll walk." They set out at a steady pace for the café. Danny noticed that Sam never released his hand when she found out they weren't flying, but he wasn't about to complain.

They arrived at The Tiger's Claw Café and took their seat just as a young man, dressed in baggy black jeans with chains and a ripped, black tee shirt stepped out onto the stage. His red hair was pulled back and his lower eyelids were blackened with eye shadow. He picked up a microphone and addressed the customers.

"Welcome to The Tiger Claw Café, where the atmosphere is always macabre. All you regulars will know that tonight is open poetry night, so if anyone wants to entertain us with the chilling, the morbid, the obscure, or the profound, don't hesitate to step up to the mike. Enjoy your evening."

Danny bought Sam a cappuccino and himself a cup of black coffee to drink while they watched and listened to the poets. A boy of about seventeen, with long, curly blonde hair but dressed in black pants with a black dress shirt, parted from his date, a girl with dark wavy hair, and took the microphone.

"I call this, A Rose Among the Thorns.

Surrounded by an ocean dark

A fog of fear, a lightning spark

With waves to toss a tiny ark

A rose among the thorns

Your fire ever burning bright

To pierce the falling shroud of night

With only one small hope in sight

A rose among the thorns

The mourning doves cry out in woe

At winter's freshly fallen snow

Of all these flowers, what can grow?

A rose among the thorns

I watch you as we start to sing

And wish that somehow I could bring

You peace, and love, and everything

A rose among the thorns"

People throughout the café snapped their fingers in appreciation as the boy rejoined his date who took his hand and smiled at him. Danny turned to Sam as another poet approached the stage.

"This is Misguided.

Misguided

You lead me astray

Into the darkness

Into lands where all light

Has faded

Stumbling through the abyss…"

"Did you bring anything to read, Sam?"

"Well, I considered reciting my Goth haiku for everyone," Sam quipped with a grin. Danny groaned.

"I think I remember that one. 'Despair without end… _Dora's a ghost_…Utter blackness, nothingness… _Dora's a ghost_…DORA IS A GHOST!"

The two of them broke into fits of laughter that, given their surrounding environment, they tried their best to suppress until they had both calmed down again.

"Why, did you bring a poem, Danny?" Danny reached into his pocket, only to find that the poem had fallen out during their walk. Danny cursed under his breath, but shrugged it off.

"I think I dropped it somewhere, but I'm pretty sure I remember it." Actually, Danny had rehearsed it so many times in his last ten minutes before picking Sam up, in order to assure it came out the way he wanted it to, that he could recite it in his sleep.

"That's great, Danny. I think this guy is about done. You could recite yours next." Danny inhaled sharply. He couldn't remember being so nervous. What if Sam didn't like him that way? What if she laughed at him, or just stormed out? Maybe this was a bad idea… No, he had come this far. He would try and accept the consequences.

"I think I'll wait a bit longer. If you don't like my poem, I wouldn't want it to ruin the rest of your night. I'll let you enjoy a few more decent poems first." Danny tried to sound like he was joking, but secretly, his biggest fear was that he would upset Sam.

"Oh, seriously Danny, I'm sure your poem's fine." Sam reached out and took Danny's hand to comfort him, then blushed and withdrew her delicate hand from his. Danny wondered how many shades of red she could see on his face.

An hour went by of Danny and Sam enjoying the coffee, the poetry, and each other's company, when Sam got up to go to the bathroom. Danny used her brief absence to steel himself for what he was about to do. He went over the lines once in his head, just to be sure, and remembered the whole poem without any trouble. When Sam returned, Danny stood.

"All right, Sam. Here goes… everything." The last word he mouthed under his breath as he approached the stage. He picked up the microphone, and it felt as if all noise, all time, had stopped. The faces of the people looking up at him all seemed hazy, vague. All but Sam's. Sam was clear, smiling her encouragement to him, surrounded by a sea of obscurity. Sam was all he could see, all he could hear, and all that mattered to him now. He could feel his heart pounding away inside his chest, beating a steady tattoo as he brought the microphone to his lips.

"This is called, Trading Colors.

If my life were perfect

I'd feel so much more alive

I wouldn't have to die each day

In order to survive

I wouldn't have to be afraid

Of losing what I love

Or fight to keep the ghosts below

From rising up above

I'd never feel the pain of loss

Or fear of being seen

I wouldn't have to trade

My black and blue for white and green

I wouldn't be afraid to feel

The way I do for you

And if I held you in my arms

You'd say you love me too

But if my life were perfect

I would not have felt the spell

And I wouldn't have been there for you

To catch you when you fell

We would never have gone flying

We would not have had the fight

And I never would have known

That not to know you wasn't right

I never would have danced with you

We never would have kissed

And these are just a few things

That I know I would have missed

So maybe life's not perfect

But the imperfection taught

And I learned my life with you

Is much more perfect than I'd thought"

Danny stepped down off the stage to the sound of snapping fingers. Sam was waiting for him, standing beside their table. Danny's eyes were looking down toward her boots, and it took all the will he had to bring his gaze up to meet her violet eyes.

Sam's arms were wrapped around her body, as if to fend off cold, although the room felt very warm to Danny. Her eyes seemed… disbelieving, and Danny didn't know whether that was a good thing or not.

"I… Danny, I… I think we ought to leave now." Sam turned and walked out the door, leaving Danny staring after her, an image of her at her fifteenth birthday burning in his tearing eyes.

"But, Sam…"

Danny stared at the door Sam had left through, wondering where he had gone wrong. Was he such a fool for believing that Sam could ever see him beyond their platonic friendship?

Just then, Sam's head popped back through the door. "Sorry, Danny, but when I said we should go, I meant together." Danny felt like his heart had stopped dead, but he was still able to walk over to the door and follow Sam out into the darkness. He felt like collapsing as he and Sam crossed the street and entered the park. They found a bench, secluded from the rest of Amity Park by willow trees and smaller bushes, where they sat down together.

Danny turned and faced Sam. "When you said we should leave… I thought… Maybe I had done something wrong and made you upset. I thought you hated me…"

"No, Danny," Sam reassured him, "you did everything right." Danny could feel his face heating up, but for some reason he couldn't bring himself to care. Maybe it was the fact that Sam was scooting closer and closer to him on the bench.

"So, why did you want to leave the café, anyway?" Sam smiled softly.

"It's a Goth café, Danny. A place of darkness and solemnity. So this would have seemed out of place." Sam's kiss came without warning, hitting Danny like an earthquake. This, the culmination of Danny's diligent work and capricious emotional rollercoaster ride, was like nothing Danny had ever felt, not even during his Fake-Out-Make-Outs, which Danny had found wonderful. Danny brought one hand to Sam's face, the other to her waist, as he returned the kiss.

Danny could feel Sam playing with his hair, he could faintly hear cars and voices, but for the most part his senses had abandoned him, leaving him feeling nothing but pure bliss. This was what he had been waiting for, been dreaming of, for so long it had begun to hurt. But this… this was perfection.

Sam smiled against Danny's lips as she pulled away slowly. He wasn't entirely sure how it had happened, but Sam was now sitting in his lap, wrapped in his arms. "Danny," she whispered softly into his ear. "You're holding me in your arms."

"Yeah," Danny replied. "I could get used to this." Sam smiled.

"And Danny."

"Yeah?"

"I do love you too."

A/N – And there you have it. Officially my first post on this website. I really hope you all enjoyed it, and I'd love it if you review.

In case you were wondering… _Adiaŭ al malbonaj aferoj_ was as close as I could get to 'good riddance to bad rubbish.' It really is closer to 'Goodbye to bad things,' but hopefully the message came across. _Dankon, mia amiko. Ĝis la revido_ means 'Thank you, my friend. Until next we meet.'

My thanks in advance to everyone who pushes the little GO button just below this message.


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